


the end of all things

by tootsonnewts



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Anal Sex, Consentacles, Demon! Shiro, M/M, Mate Bonding, Oral Sex, Oviposition, Tentacle Sex, a lil bit of magic, and their trip into eternity, half-demon were-squid! keith, inking, monstertron gift exchange, neck biting, the story of a beautiful weresquid and the demon who loves him
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-16
Updated: 2018-08-16
Packaged: 2019-06-28 07:45:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15702873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tootsonnewts/pseuds/tootsonnewts
Summary: A sigh escapes his charge’s lips, quiet and pleased. Relieved. Keith’s long limbs unfurl peacefully as he sinks neck deep into the shallows, Shiro’s arms supporting him as he goes. Each time they do this, Shiro is reminded of the first moment he laid eyes on the boy.At first, his desire to seek him out was born of a deep seated need to do the right thing, no matter the circumstance.keith is a half-demon mortal, cursed to infernal changes for three days during each full moon. shiro is the demon who has sworn his life to love and protect him, assisting him through each cycle. keith’s twenty-fifth birthday is rapidly approaching, and a choice must be made.





	the end of all things

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mondaijo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mondaijo/gifts).



> this is my monstertron exchange gift for [mondaijo](http://mondaijo.tumblr.com/)! andy, i love your art and respect you so much, and i was so excited to receive you for the exchange! i did my very best to include as many of your prompts as possible (i only left out one), and i hope you like it! you are an absolute gem and deserve nothing but the best!
> 
> fair warning to everyone: i took some extreme liberties with cephalopod anatomy. look, we all know why we’re here, so just roll with it.
> 
> <3

****The water of the inlet is warm, but it doesn’t rival that of the boy draped in Shiro’s arms. He feels so small like this, shivering and sweating against Shiro’s broad chest, but if the demon knows anything in this world or any other, it’s the strength hidden deep within those compact bones. Shiro wades deeper into the water of the cove, quickly cutting through the still surface until he’s navel deep.

A sigh escapes his charge’s lips, quiet and pleased. Relieved. Keith’s long limbs unfurl peacefully as he sinks neck deep into the shallows, Shiro’s arms supporting him as he goes. Each time they do this, Shiro is reminded of the first moment he laid eyes on the boy.

At first, his desire to seek him out was born of a deep seated need to do the right thing, no matter the circumstance.

Shiro knew for years that Zarkon’s leadership had gone astray somewhere. Still, he turned a blind eye as Zarkon’s royal court began to fill with demons of the type that were once denied a seat in even the lowest halls of the underworld, his advisors hissed poison in his ears, his wife disappeared.

Rumors began, as all rumors do once a ruler becomes a dictator, that a rebellion was on the rise. These rumors piqued Shiro’s interest. He had always been a pragmatic sort of demon. His allegiance was determined by the option he saw best fit his current circumstances and no more. Being a member of the ruler’s personal guard made sense at the time he joined and the benefits suited Shiro’s needs. Becoming elevated to the emperor’s Champion gave him wider berth and more advantages, although it led to more challenges to his station. Losing his arm from one such challenge was a difficult event, indeed. The replacement never felt quite like it belonged to him.

Still, he served Zarkon faithfully. Under his leadership, Shiro was allowed to flourish and conduct himself as he saw fit.

Over time however, Zarkon’s mind eroded even more, leading him to make questionable decisions and even more questionable demands. By the time the plans for rebellion were confirmed to be true, Shiro had long since made up his mind. He would help in any way possible, if only to remove a ruler he no longer cared to see in power.

Krolia approached him first.

She was an unassuming demon. In Shiro’s experience, those were the most dangerous kind. Krolia carried herself with an air of natural wildness that set his fangs on edge. Her shoulders were carved in permanent tension, her eyes always seeking danger, constantly darting around the perimeter of whatever room she occupied. She told Shiro of the rebellion, of their plans to take Zarkon down and see his successor to the throne. But they needed his help, she said. Something about Zarkon’s trust, as if he had any of that in the first place. Shiro was skeptical of the plan, of her, but she promised he would be proven wrong.

Then came Kolivan.

The leader of the rebellion, and a high ranked demon in his own right. He sat at Shiro’s side as an equal and explained his thoughts, the rebellion’s reasoning, the stakes. They knew Zarkon was being manipulated, influenced by someone inside his court. He was being twisted and changed. In order to preserve the balance of the underworld, steps had to be taken to dethrone Zarkon. The rebellion had a plan to remove him and his court from power and instate his successor, Lotor. It seemed rather straightforward. Easy, even. Too easy.

Still, their plan stood solid enough to him. At any rate, he was ready to see Zarkon descend the throne, forcibly or not.

But there was a mole in their midst, a double agent planted by Zarkon’s right hand. Haggar, his personal witch, had the sight. She heard the whispers that swirled in halls and chambers in the dead of night, and she followed those whispers. She crafted an agent to infiltrate and put an end to the rebellion. And infiltrate they did.

The rebellion crumpled easily, their chief members scattering to the ends of the underworld and beyond. But not before Haggar sussed out key identities. One of those being Krolia.

Krolia had a son on Earth, secretive and hidden.

But not well enough.

Haggar found him.

Zarkon was informed.

Krolia disappeared, and her son, Keith, had no chance.

In the cover of night, Haggar was sent to Earth with a mission to curse the boy as punishment for Krolia’s insolence. And so she did. At the stroke of midnight on the boy’s twenty-first birthday, Haggar raised her hands high, summoning every creature at her command, every spell in her knowledge, and every old god that still stood behind Zarkon’s power. She chanted and danced and sang until her power peaked high beneath the moon, and then she struck. She sent a curse to Keith, aiming true and fierce to the very core of him. The half demon boy was struck down, given a new supernatural identity to contend with.

Each full moon, Keith would change. For three days, he would become a fearsome, tentacled creature, much like the gods of old. His body would remain the same, but his legs would flare out, replaced by those of a squid, ink and all.

When Shiro managed to track him down, he was much too late to save him from the curse. As he climbed through the young man’s window in the dead of night, the telltale violet light of Haggar’s witchcraft was already dying away, leaving behind its permanent mark. Keith writhed and screamed in his sheets, begging and crying for mercy from the unseen force. His eyes opened wide and jaw slackened with pain, spittle spraying forth. As the changes took root and settled, his eyes followed. In a flash, they turned from deep, dull blue to brilliant violet.

Shiro rushed forward, scooping the boy into his arms and standing. As he did so, Keith opened his eyes to him, muttering a choked plea for mercy from beneath mussed, sweat soaked strands of void black hair. Keith looked up at Shiro’s face, and Shiro was lost.

From that day forward, he vowed to stay by the boy’s side. To teach him everything he could of their ways. To help him learn about himself and cope with his nature. As time went on, their bond deepened and grew. Lust turned to love for Shiro. A demon of his age and power usually knew not of the feeling. Only of power and the pleasure of the flesh. Most did not make time or room for another in their heart. Shiro counted himself among those ranks, never finding reason to stray from his path.

Keith was different.

He was plain in his intentions, straightforward in his word, stalwart in his dedication. He was lithe and compact, beautiful and graceful. Beneath all of that, he was strong. Stronger, in Shiro’s opinion, than many full-bloods he had ever met in his long and tumultuous life. The only person stronger, he thought, was Keith’s mother Krolia.

Once Shiro had rescued her son from the mortal realm and Haggar’s sight, she resurfaced, begging him to keep Keith by his side. After all, she argued, only the emperor’s Champion would have the power to keep him safe. By then, her begging was unneeded.

Shiro had already made up his mind.

Keith allowed him to stay.

He was...guarded at first. Wary of all he met, Shiro most of all. He had been abandoned on Earth, sent there by a mother who wished for his protection as a babe, and turned into the foster system when no protector could be found. His life was rough and tumble, fought for with everything he had.

Keith trusted no promise and brooked no foolishness.

Still, he tolerated Shiro enough to allow him to accompany him for his first changing. He allowed Shiro close enough to find a good hiding place for his subsequent transformation. He settled into their friendship enough to grant Shiro permission to be there for them all. Each change gifted Shiro a bit more of Keith’s trust and respect, but it also gave him a new chance at viewing the pleasure of Keith’s true form.

Keith stripped down to his basest nature is everything Shiro could ever want in a mate. His tentacles are long and thick, sporting healthy suckers and vibrant crimson color. His torso is muscular and defined. The small fins that grow at his neck flare wild and uncontained, a fluttering of light red along a slim, pale neck. But the one thing Shiro desperately wished to know from the very beginning was what was contained inside the depths of Keith’s limbs. What was nestled deep in the core of him?

Shiro is a patient demon. He can wait for what he wants.

So he did.

He stood by, steady and true, until Keith decided he wanted him in return. Once he did, Shiro wasted no time in finding the answer to his question. One early morning admission against the bank of their private cove turned quickly into Keith sprawled across Shiro’s wide thighs, tentacles splayed open for Shiro’s searching hands.

His discovery was more than worth the wait.

Keith groans in his arms, butting a warm forehead against his shoulder, nuzzling hard. He gets clingy during the full moon, the change drawing out the basest parts of his nature. It embrrasses him, to be so open and vulnerable, and while Shiro understands, he can’t help but be horribly endeared by the behavior.

“Soon, dearheart. We need to get to deep waters.”

Keith groans again. “I know. I just-God, I’m so fucking itchy. Why is it always itchy?”

“Your skin is changing. It’s to be expected with the growth.”

“Oh baby. Tell me more about my skin stretching out. It’s so hot to me,” Keith deadpans. Shiro knows he’s using sarcasm to mask his discomfort, but he can’t help playing along.

“You like that? You like hearing about your cells rearranging themselves to make room for your aquatic skin? You like knowing that your very nature is being turned upside down?”

“God, yeah,” Keith grumbles back. “I’m so wet right now.” Shiro splashes a hand in the water for emphasis, and Keith smiles up at him. “Just get me out there, asshole.”

“Yes, sir.”

They reach deeper waters, right in the middle of the cove, and Shiro clears his throat, pressing Keith close for one last time.

“You ready, baby?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” Keith sighs. Shiro nods his understanding and waves a hand. Along the shoreline, a thicket of trees parts, allowing the moonlight to filter down through a wide opening long before the moon fully rises above them. Shiro releases Keith’s body, setting him to float freely on the water’s surface.

The beams of light that pass down from above grace Keith’s pale skin, and the change begins. His body bursts forth in brilliant purple light, shimmering all around him and illuminating the water below. His legs curl and jerk unnaturally, splitting into multiples and bendingbreaking _snapping_ until finally going boneless, writhing around his waist like snakes. He heaves one final breath, falling below the water’s surface, and his thrashing ceases.

Keith pokes his eyes above the water raising an expectant eyebrow and, at last, it’s time.

Shiro smirks, slipping below the water to run his hands all along the surface of him. The texture of Keith’s skin changes with the transformation, and if it felt unique and soft to him before, now it feels positively transcendent. It’s slightly rubbery and textured in the most peculiar way. Shiro could swear he feels each individual pore beneath his fingers as he runs them over Keith’s flanks.

His beloved shudders beneath his touch, and it reminds Shiro of why he likes being here during his transformation so much. Keith becomes sensitive on the first night of the moon. Each run of Shiro’s palms across Keith’s body sets off mountain ranges of goosebumps, each press of lips to his neck draws bubbles and pants, each whisper a shudder from deep within Keith’s spine.

Not to mention Shiro’s favorite part.

Keith is quiet as Shiro dips below the water’s surface to part his tentacles, peering up into him. His entrance sits pretty in the center, pink and clean, ready to be ruined. His ovipositor is engorged with fresh eggs, nearly ready to be released. Keith moans quietly into the water as Shiro reaches up between them to run a gentle thumb across the membrane covering his ink pouch. He stays there, rubbing in circles and whispering encouragement to Keith until he’s moaning loud and bracing himself on the demon’s shoulders.

Keith goes slick and fluttering, dripping with self-lubrication, and Shiro just can’t help himself. He leans up through the curtain of tentacles and extends his tongue, stretching and lengthening it until the forked tip prods against Keith’s pucker. Keith gasps and squirms, a strangled moan pressed out from between clenched teeth. Shiro rubs his thumb over Keith’s ink membrane once more before he slides his hand away, running it along the length of his ovipositor.

Keith cries out as Shiro grips it firmly, dragging his hand along the length and squeezing ever so slightly over the round distention of each egg. He pumps his hand a few times across the nodular length before extending his tongue more, sinking deep inside Keith. He moans and shakes overhead as Shiro continues his ministrations, working him ever closer to the edge that he so desperately needs to be flung from. He feels Keith become desperate for it, his tentacles wrapping around Shiro’s biceps and torso as he licks sloppily at the core of him.

Suddenly, Shiro stops and pulls away. Keith whines and moans as the demon floats up to meet him face to face. Shiro takes him gently by the chin, pulling him forward for a deep, loving kiss. He pulls away slowly, leaving Keith all pink cheeks and fluttering lashes.

“Are you planning to ink for me, sweetheart?”

“Come on, you know I hate that.”

“Mmm, it’s fortunate for me that you can’t control it, then, isn’t it?”

“Shiro, you fu- _ahhh_ ,” Shiro doesn’t allow Keith to finish the thought, reaching back between his thrashing tentacles to stroke a palm across his sensitive depositor. Keith shudders and collapses forward into Shiro’s waiting arms, with a muttered _not fair._ Shiro laughs low in his chest and wraps his hand fully around him. Keith’s breath rushes out raspy and labored as his pulse quickens beneath Shiro’s touch. He lazily pumps his hand a few times, slow and teasing. It’s not enough to give Keith what he wants, but it is enough to send him gasping and moaning once more, and that is precisely where Shiro wants him.

While Keith is properly distracted by the hand on his depositor, Shiro sneaks his other up further, slipping a finger inside his fluttering cavity. He tightens his grip around Keith to drag his hand more insistently, intent heavy in each motion. Keith keens, throwing his head back enough to have his hair slapping against the water’s surface. Shiro slips another finger inside, rooting around until he finds what he’s searching for. As Keith tightens and pulses around his hand, he finds it, pressing harshly into the packet of nerves he went searching for. Keith cries out harshly into the night, releasing torrents of semen and ink, turning the water around them darker and murkier with each passing second.

Shiro smirks to himself, smug with victory, as Keith pants and trembles against his chest. He takes a moment to collect himself, his tentacles calming into a light swirl in the water. As his breath evens out, Keith looks up into the light of the moon pouring over them, eyes slipping closed momentarily. When they reopen, Shiro finds their weight focused solely on himself.

Keith punches him directly in the middle of the chest. He tries his best for indignation, but the afterglow overtakes his expression.

“You’re a real fucker, you know that?”

“I thought you liked that about me,” Shiro answers playfully, pleased with himself as a violet flush crosses Keith’s skin.

“Maybe so.”

Shiro smiles and allows himself to be lead to the small cave where Keith makes his nest each cycle. It’s cozy and warm, considering the fact that it’s completely submerged. Demon power, being what it is, affords Shiro the ability to adjust easily to the transition. Which is fantastic, because his higher faculties are a little on the fritz.

 

+++

 

The next night finds them right back where they started—floating in the center of the cove with Keith shuddering in his lap. The moon is at its apex for the night, her power calling strong to Keith’s blood. Water sloshes as it ebbs and flows around their bodies, a warm presence surrounding them as they proceed through their monthly rituals.

“You turn twenty-five this year,” Shiro says conversationally. His palms stroke back and forth over his two favorite tentacles.

“Yeah,” Keith answers breathily. “Yeah, I do. And no, I haven’t forgotten.”

_“I am...invested in you, Keith,” Shiro says seriously one night, his fingers threaded through the boy’s hair while his head is pillowed on Shiro’s chest._

_“Oh yeah? Like, stocks and bonds with my name on ‘em?” Keith answers jokingly._

_“There is a tradition among demons who take human lovers, did you know?”_

_“Nope. You said demons don’t really take human lovers.”_

_“Mmm, most don’t take any lovers at all. Not long term, anyway. But those who do? And those who choose humans? They tend to choose them rather young.”_

_Keith gasps dramatically below Shiro’s chin. “Cradle robbers.”_

_Shiro sighs._

_“Yes, it does sometimes feel that way.”_

_“Why?”_

_It’s a much larger question than Keith probably realizes. There are a plethora of reasons why a demon may take a human lover in the first place. Taking one whilst young simply provides more time. More opportunity to sway your beloved to your side. Well, further anyway._

_“Demons don’t marry like humans do.”_

_“Yeah, well, I bet it’d be damn hard to roll into a courthouse and ask to marry your demon boyfriend, so I get that.”_

_“Likewise, we cannot bring mortals to our realm undeclared.”_

_Keith is silent for a moment. Shiro can practically hear the gears in his head as they turn ever onward toward a conclusion._

_“...So what do you do?”_

_“We mate.”_

_“Like, fucking? Because, I hate to break it to you, Takashi-”_

_“No. As in-well, okay, fucking is involved,” Shiro relents._

_“Incredible.”_

_“But it’s more than that, truly. We mate physically and spiritually. We meld, in a sense. So that we can stay together.”_

_“How would that keep you together?”_

_Here comes the hard part. Shiro has been bracing himself for this for years now; the explanation, the shock, the abandonment._

_“Humans age. They die. We do not. Not in that sense, anyway. We are capable of death, but it doesn’t seek us.”_

_“So you mate and what? Y’all get longer together?”_

_“Infinity. We get infinity together.”_

_“How in the fuck does that happen?”_

_“The meld involves sharing life essence. When a demon mates a human, they die.”_

_“Holy shit.”_

_“Pretty much. But they come back. As one of us.”_

_Keith is quiet again. His hand finds his mouth and his eyes go unfocused as he thinks over their conversation, a telltale sign he’s deep in his own mind somewhere. He hums a bit, pinching his bottom lip. It goes irritated and red beneath the absent minded action, but Shiro remains composed and refrains from swatting Keith’s hand away from the delicate skin._

_“So you’re asking to mate me.”_

_“Your twenty-fifth birthday approaches.”_

_“It does…”_

_“My appearance is tailored to present as though I am in my late twenties.”_

_“It is…”_

_“I’ve always liked my men younger.”_

_“I’ve always liked myself alive.”_

_“I would always like you by my side.”_

_“Oh.”_

“I haven’t forgotten and my answer is yes,” Keith says resolutely. A wave of surprise overtakes Shiro momentarily. He reaches out with shaking hands, taking Keith’s up in his grasp.

“Really?”

“I love you, Shiro,” Keith says with a light shrug and the truth of it bowls Shiro over. Keith’s never said the words, neither of them have. And yet, the simplicity with which they rolled from his tongue, as if it were a simple law of nature, was astounding.

“Are you sure?” Shiro asks, drawing closer. Their foreheads press together and Keith’s eyelids slip closed.

“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life,” Keith answers. He pushes forward and their lips collide, a smooth slide of skin on skin. Warm kisses press against cheeks, against jaws, against collarbones until Keith finally draws back to regard Shiro seriously. “I would follow you anywhere.”

The words strike him deep, precise as a knife and just as flaying. His heart roars to life in his chest, heat and devotion flaring out to fill his body. His fingers flex with the force of it all, itching and begging to grasp onto Keith, to never let him go.

“And I you,” he answers earnestly, surprised at the force behind his own words. He reaches out, running his hands along Keith’s shoulders, down his chest, around to his back, and further down until he’s toying at the junction of Keith’s torso and tentacles. “May I?”

“Yeah,” Keith breathes, and Shiro springs into action, surging forward to capture his love’s mouth once more. Plush lips part just as easily as long tentacles, both wrapping themselves around Shiro and pulling him into Keith’s orbit.

Their lips move together like the tide, giving and taking, moving naturally and with intent. Shiro drags a hand along Keith’s hip, slowly dipping it between them to trace along Keith’s inner workings. His ovipositor is getting heavier now, the eggs he carries ripening and maturing for position. By tomorrow night, they should be at their fullest, ready to drop. The girth of their sleeve is weighty in Shiro’s hand as he strokes along the sensitive flesh.

Keith moans low in his throat, nearly a growl, and it’s a reminder of the half-demon nature hidden in his bones. Sometimes, Shiro forgets. Tonight however, with the moon at her highest and Keith at his hottest, it’s all Shiro can think about.

He slides his hand down Keith’s shaft and past it, easily skimming over his ink membrane. Keith doesn’t even notice, he’s already so far gone under the influence of his second nature and the calling of the moon. He barely acknowledges when Shiro sinks a finger in him, and then a second, and then a third.

Finally, with a flick of his wrist, Shiro finds his sweet spot, bringing forth a wave of hot slick gushing into his hand. He pulls off of Keith’s mouth with a bite to his abused bottom lip and whispers, “Oh, baby. Is this all for me?”

“ _Fuck,_ ” is what he gets in return, as Keith grinds down onto his hand. He flexes his fingers again, just to make a point, and withdraws his hand. With his fingers no longer blocking the way, a fresh wave of cloudy slick pours out of Keith into the water around them, blurring out Keith’s tentacles a little bit. Shiro smirks and tugs Keith’s tentacles apart enough to slot himself in between them. They wrap themselves around his waist, one curling long and low around his right leg.

Keith stares him down, hot and dark, as Shiro lines himself up. His face is drawn tight in a plea, the smell of desire pouring from his skin, and yet Shiro waits. He nudges the corkscrew head of his dick against Keith’s pucker, just barely breaching the opening, and waits. Keith pants, the very tip of his tongue sticking out of his mouth, and still Shiro waits. Keith tries grinding down, tries whining, tries groaning, but Shiro remains impassive. He’s a patient demon. Keith knows what he wants.

“Say it,” he commands. “Say it and I’ll give you everything you want.”

Keith’s eyes flutter closed. He’s still panting, still rolling his hips. It’s a tease for both of them, really. With every undulation, the head of Shiro’s dick dips just a little bit further into the wet heat and pulls away again. It almost flusters him enough to give in, but he so very often does. It’s Keith’s turn. Brilliant violet is revealed to him as Keith reopens his eyes and leans in.

“Fuck me. Please.”

Shiro rolls his hips forward languidly, only enough to push his head fully inside.

“And what else?”

Keith rolls his eyes fondly, but relents. His places his hands on either side of Shiro’s face and speaks calmly, “Takashi Shirogane, higher demon of the former court of Zarkon, I want you to fuck me. And when the time is right, I want you to claim me.”

Shiro slams home.

Keith screams, something that doesn’t happen all too often. His walls tighten around the corkscrew, pulsing as the nodules and ridges of Shiro’s shaft cram themselves past his rim. Shiro seats himself fully inside and waits, allowing Keith to bounce himself in little pulses. Keith settles down once he’s got Shiro right where he wants him.

“Go,” he says evenly, and Shiro does. He expands himself, pressing tight against Keith’s walls just how he likes. He likes the drag and friction of it against him when he’s in this form, the feeling of being plugged tight with every thrust. Shiro leans forward, sinking down beneath the water to lay Keith out on the rock floor of the heart of the cove with their fingers laced together.

He plunges deeper and harder with every hammer forward of his hips, Keith cursing and wailing and thrashing beneath him.

“I’ll be so good to you,” Shiro croons, dragging his hips back slowly. “I’ll make you so”—he thrusts forward harshly—“fucking”—draws back and thrusts again—“ _happy_ ”—another brutal thrust to emphasize his point. Tears don’t flow easily underwater, quickly washed away as they are, but Keith sobs and holds on to him for dear life. His hips snap back to meet Shiro’s every move forward, and even clouded with lust, his eyes are soft and beautiful.

“You already do,” he cries, and Shiro comes. He presses deep inside, still fucking Keith until he reaches his own climax, cum and slick and ink squelching between them, clouding the water. Once they finish, Shiro stays seated inside, pumping his hips ever so slightly as they kiss languidly.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispers. “I’m so glad I found you.”

“We found each other.”

Shiro sleeps better that night than he has in a long time.

 

+++

 

“We’re doing it tonight.”

Shiro startles, the bit of raw fish he was eating falling from his lips.

“You mean-?”

“Yeah. Just tell me what I need to do.”

“It involves biting. I hope that’s acceptable.”

Keith laughs low and dangerous. “I know you didn’t seriously just ask if biting is okay with me.”

It’s a fair point. Much of their coupling involves biting. It’s nothing unusual for them.

“Be that as it may,” Shiro says, “it’s a bit more complicated than that. We bite in a certain area. It-it will break you.”

“Break me.”

“Your neck, specifically. I have to bite your spinal cord.”

“Metal.”

“Perhaps. It’s also fairly horrifying.”

“No offense, Shiro, but there’s nothing about us that isn’t pretty horrifying.”

It’s a fair point. Either way, these are things they must discuss.

“Still, you have to know the truth of it. And we also need to decide how tonight will go.”

They have a tradition, after all. By the third night of his cycle, Keith is ready to drop his eggs. They’ve grown heavy within him, prepared for fertilization and release. Although the fertilization is something they choose to ignore, the release is not. When the moon crests high, Shiro accepts Keith’s clutch. Typically, that ends the cycle and Keith reverts back to his human form, ready to tackle another month of tentacle-free time.

A mating might change things. It could leave Keith feeling more vulnerable than normal. It could make the transformation permanent. Shiro isn’t altogether certain. Uncertainties tend to make Keith nervous.

Keith swims forward, cutting through the water with understated grace and agility, to snatch Shiro up by the scruff of the neck. He presses their foreheads together, staring unblinkingly into Shiro’s eyes.

“You’re still taking my clutch tonight,” he growls low.

No change, then. Shiro can work with that. First things first, they have to confirm things. Shiro needs reassurance that Keith’s instincts aren’t the only thing driving his acceptance of their pairing. The conversion is forever. It’s permanent. Even for demons, the bond often proves terrifying and overwhelming.

“Keith,” Shiro says seriously, linking his fingers through Keith’s own at the base of his skull. “I need to be sure. I need to know that you want this. Eternity is a very long time.”

Keith’s eyes flash in the dark of the waters, cutting right through to the core of Shiro’s scarred soul. His piercing gaze is constant, still, serious. He stills for several long moments, scanning Shiro’s face, eye flicking back and forth across his features as he searches for something beyond Shiro’s understanding. He must find it, because the corner of his mouth tips up in amusement.

“You’re terrified.”

And that draws Shiro up short. Because it’s true. He’s nervous, he’s scared, he’s horrified at the prospect of taking the life of the man he loves most. Shiro has killed before. He’s killed plentiful beings in his long stretch of existence. This, however, is different. If he does anything incorrectly, anything at all, Keith will be gone from him forever. And what about after all is said and done? What if the years stretch on and Keith grows bored of him? Shiro is not what one might call an exciting being. He does his duties, he serves the rebellion, he goes home. Lather, rinse, repeat.

Keith, though. Keith is a bright, brilliant creature carved from light and goodness itself. He doubts himself often, unable to see his value at times, but he’s one of the purest people Shiro has ever had the grace to know. That’s a light he is loathe to snuff.

Thin fingers trace Shiro’s jaw, drawing him out of his thoughts. He comes back to the present with Keith’s eyes gazing up at him fondly.

“You can be scared, Shiro. I’m scared. But I love you. I want this. You.”

The force of conviction behind his words is palpable. Shiro can feel them like a physical thing, slotting into the empty spots in his chest. Like a gentle breeze dancing across water, his fears are whisked away. This is real and true and _deep,_ what they have. It’s permanent. It just needs to be made so.

“Then shall we begin?”

Keith smiles and presses his forehead to Shiro’s a final time. “Yes.”

Silently, Shiro tugs Keith to the surface of the water to watch the sun sink below the horizon. It disappears from their sight, hidden amongst the canopy of trees in their little hideout. As it goes, Keith shudders against Shiro’s side. The moon rises slowly, peeking out from behind gauzy cloud cover. She hits her apex, shining heavy and bright down upon them, bathing Keith in an ethereal glow. His skin shimmers under the moon’s light, gleaming and bright, untouched by the scars of battle Shiro has seen. It is his intention to keep that skin in that condition, no matter what it takes.

Keith gasps in a broken breath, reaching below the water to grasp at his stomach.

“Is it time, then?” Shiro asks. The question tumbles out, low and rasping. A fire stokes itself in Shiro’s gut, something far beyond the usual embers of his lust for the beautiful man in his arms. This fire is hard and fast, a crackling inferno that towers high within him. It climbs his spine, wrapping itself around each vertebra. It licks out, tracing his veins and nerves, burning them to nothingness. It spreads throughout his musculature, blanketing his brain until the only thing left inside of him is the desire, the need, to take his mate forever. To pull him close to his chest and absorb every bit of goodness, share it, pass it back and forth until they are one and endless and perfect.

A flash of violet cuts the quiet night, Keith rushing forward to wrap himself around Shiro’s body. Shiro takes a moment to drop the remainders of his glamour. Every false bit of flesh drops away, leaving his true, hulking form behind. He’s a behemoth like this, compared to Keith. His shoulders bulk out impossibly wide. His hands, one long and clawed and the other metallic and strong, grow enough to easily encircle Keith’s tiny waist. Shiro’s freshly revealed tail quivers in excitement, tangling itself among Keith’s tentacles, a long black vine in a sea of red. Keith’s tentacles grip his tail firmly, sliding up and down the length of it, wriggling in anticipation.

Shiro sinks them below the water’s surface, toward Keith’s cave and the safety of his nest. He splays Keith out on his back, a feast awaiting consumption. Death is never easy, and Shiro intends to make Keith’s as sweet as possible.

“I want you to enjoy this, Keith,” Shiro whispers, reaching deep inside Keith’s tentacles to run reverent fingers along his ovipositor. Keith moans loud at his touch, crying out when Shiro grips the very tip of it, dipping a finger inside the slit. “I can’t wait to feel these in me.”

Keith shakes beneath him, his tentacles flying out, splaying in every direction. Shiro keeps running his hand along Keith’s shaft in light, teasing touches to bring him to full stiffness, ready for deposition. Suddenly, Keith stills, sucking in a harsh breath. He looks up at Shiro, eyes full of mischief and possessiveness. Shiro smirks down at him, ready for what comes next.

His world blurs as Keith wraps tentacles around his arms, legs, and waist, flipping their position to slam him to the ground. Shiro reaches up to stroke his face, arching his back just the way Keith likes. He reaches down between their bodies, snatching up one of Keith’s tentacles to position it at his entrance. He’s already wet, pooling slick just how Keith likes him to. One of his favorite things about Keith is how sloppy he likes it, how messy and primal he becomes during the act. If ever there were a time Shiro might have doubted Keith’s attraction, all he needed to do was produce a little slick and watch Keith’s face.

The tentacle twitches curiously, prodding gently at Shiro’s entrance until it slips in easily. Keith smiles down at him, bright and hungry. He looks the most beautiful this hungry, propped up above Shiro, ready to take what he wants. Shiro squirms, throwing his hips down to force more of Keith inside himself. Keith acquiesces, slipping the tentacle in him hot and fast, immediately searching out his prostate and _pushing._ Shiro moans, loud and broken, surging up to meet Keith in a biting kiss as he smirks and adds another tentacle.

Shiro writhes for him, overwrought and performative the way Keith likes when he’s like this, as Keith adds another and another until Shiro looks down to find nearly all of Keith’s appendages seated inside him. What isn’t inside is wrapped around his legs, prying him apart for easy access. Keith’s eyebrows are furrowed in concentration, staring hard and dark at where the two of them are conjoined. Shiro smirks at his expression and grinds his hips, moaning wet and loud into the water.

Keith’s eyes snap up to his face, full of love and possessiveness, and Shiro knows it’s time. He smiles fondly, reaching out to stroke a palm down the side of Keith’s face.

“You ready, baby?”

Keith’s eyelids flutter closed. He retracts his tentacles, Shiro left gaping in their wake, and floats up closer to press their bodies together. Shiro reaches down, parting the curtain of tentacles floating around them, and hooks his ankles around Keith’s waist. He tips his head back, looking up to the surface of the water overhead, presenting his throat to Keith’s ravenous gaze, and waits.

The moments between preparation and action are always long and languid, with Keith taking a few moments to steel himself. Actual oviposition is...less than glamorous, and Keith always needs a beat to steel himself. It’s fine with Shiro, because it only means he gets to enjoy the build up, the anticipation of the moment when Keith’s steel reserve snaps and he goes feral with his rut.

Keith shudders under Shiro’s legs. The tip of his ovipositor seats itself at Shiro’s ass, just barely resting against his entrance. It’s a tease, barely even a taste of what’s to come for him, but still he waits. Patient demon, etcetera etcetera. Shiro looks back down, grey eyes meeting Keith’s violet. He cocks a brow in challenge and shimmies his hips the barest amount.

Shiro’s game works, breaking through Keith’s patience, and finally Keith slides inside. Each nodule of his ovipositor catches Shiro’s rim as they stuff themselves inside. Once Keith is fully seated, he pauses. His ovipositor twitches and thrashes inside Shiro’s tight heat, seeking purchase. By nature, it’s searching for damp, sticky walls to catch and nurture Keith’s clutch. Whatever Keith needs, he gets. Shiro focuses on turning his insides slick and hot, clamping down on the ovipositor inside of him. His walls flutter around Keith, and Keith moans loud between them, slamming his mouth to Shiro’s.

Their kisses are messy and biting, more teeth than lip, but it doesn’t matter once Keith draws back and thrusts forward again, setting a brutal pace for Shiro to cling to. Tentacles splay across Shiro’s back, stroke along his muscular thighs, wrap around his torso. Still, Keith fucks him hard and fast. Shiro threads a hand through Keith’s hair, tugging his head back to mouth at the skin of his neck, to feel each hitch in Keith’s breath as he rushes toward his release.

Finally, a lone tentacle slithers up Shiro’s back to wrap itself around his throat. Keith’s muscles quake beneath Shiro’s legs and spasm hard when he lets go with a cry. Shiro takes over, rolling his hips down and back as he feels Keith position his clutch, dropping his eggs one by one inside of Shiro’s body until he’s empty, pulling his ovipositor away. A tentacle follows behind, the tip shoving itself inside Shiro. It remains unmoving, plugging Shiro tightly to ensure no loss of egg will occur, as if he would ever let that happen.

It’s always a pleasant feeling, holding Keith’s eggs. They put a gentle weight on all the best parts of him, pressing tight against his innards. One sits directly over his prostate, and even though it’s a sensation he’s become intensely familiar with, it always threatens to send him barreling over the edge like he was a mere century old.

Keith collapses against Shiro, chest heaving, eyes slammed shut. Shiro hums an ancient tune and strokes his clawed fingers through Keith’s hair.

“Are you feeling better, my love?”

Keith snorts into Shiro’s shoulder. He’s never been one for pet names, but his mile-wide soft spot for Shiro means the demon will always get away with them. Keith nods his head as he releases a light huff of air and Shiro smiles. His skin buzzes with what is coming next, the anticipation tearing at the very roots of his being.

His body knows he’s about to mate, about to claim, and sets about rearranging itself for the process without his permission. His hands elongate to better hold his prey, his teeth grow long and viciously sharp in his mouth, his dick lengthens and thickens, changing texture and shape to better please his chosen one. He drips hard and heavy between his legs, cock producing aphrodisiac slick.

Shiro’s chest hums to life, a faint glow emanating from his skin where his nature mark remains hidden. The jagged lines of it burst forth into view, catching Keith’s attention. Keith leans back to stare at it, running curious fingers across Shiro’s skin. It feels like lightning, searing all of Shiro’s nerves. The touch of his intended, the hand of his _mate._ Shiro’s body screams out for him, to devour, to claim.

He reaches out with new hands, scooping Keith up in his arms and turning him around, pressing his back flush against Shiro’s own chest.

“Are you ready to be taken?” The question rumbles forth from Shiro’s chest, more a growl than anything. Keith shivers in his arms under the weight of it but still nods his head. “Words, precious. I need the words.”

“Y-yes. God, yes.”

Shiro wraps a hand around the back of Keith’s neck and shoves him forward. He slams face down into the ground, body going pliant and receptive in the nest built for Keith’s rut. Shiro hovers over his back, licking a long stripe down his spine with forked tongue. He reaches Keith’s tentacles, snaking his tongue in between them to prod at his entrance, loose with his recent release. Still, he needs a bit more work. Everything must be perfect for Shiro’s mate. Everything must be just right for his beloved.

Shiro plunges his tongue inside Keith, licking him out with intensity. His tongue drips slick and saliva all over Keith, the man writhing and moaning, face pressed harshly to the floor. If it hurts, Keith acts like he doesn’t even notice. Shiro loves him so much. Shiro thickens his tongue, working Keith over until he’s a panting, mewling, sloppy mess.

“Shiro. Shiro, please. I’m ready, please, just-”

Shiro retracts his tongue lightning quick. Keith whines out at the loss, throwing his hips back to chase it. Shiro chuckles dark, leaning forward to cover Keith’s body with his own. He’s impossibly small beneath him, so fragile and breakable that Shiro can’t help but admire the difference.

“You are so beautiful like this, Keith Kogane,” Shiro whispers. The casual easiness of the modern vernacular falls away as he slips into his native speech. “I am going to enjoy tearing you apart.”

“Oh my fucking god,” Keith whispers low. Shiro parts the sea of tentacles between them, setting the flared head of his cock against Keith.

“Not quite, but very nearly,” he answers smugly and pushes in. The ridges and fins of his transformed shaft rub hot against Keith’s walls as he forces the entirety of himself inside. Keith cries out, arms scrabbling against the seaweed bed of his nest, searching for purchase. Shiro pulls back and rolls his hips forward in a powerful thrust, sending Keith sprawling even further forward, his body trapped between Shiro’s and the ground.

Shiro lays his full weight against Keith, pumping in and out of Keith in smooth even strokes. He twirls a strand of Keith’s hair around his finger as he takes him.

“Have I not told you the story of the day I knew you were destined to be mine?” Keith whines beneath him, unable to answer the question. “I was sent by your mother to find you. Truly, you can thank her for my love.” Shiro punctuates himself with a harsh thrust. “I saw you there, in your bed, forced into your changing rut. Goodness, you stank to high heaven.” Shiro nips Keith’s shoulder, slowing his pace. “It was...Keith, I do not think you understand the power you hold. You smelled like nothing I had ever experienced in my existence. And right now?” He rolls his hips forward again, breathing in deeply at Keith’s neck. “Beneath me?” A new thrust, a long moan from Keith, a new wave of heady lust scent. “My body sings for you. I have your eggs. I’m going to protect them for you until you come back to me.”

Keith’s tentacles part further for Shiro of their own accord, wrapping around his hips, beckoning him further inside Keith. Shiro obliges, lengthening and thickening himself inside Keith until he keens, grinding back on Shiro’s dick. Shiro draws in a shaking breath, the power of his bond magic building beneath his skin. He rocks in and out of Keith again, capping each thrust with a heavy breath in Keith’s ear.

Shiro slithers his tongue out to wrap around one lobe, nipping and sucking as he plunges heavily into him.

“You are going to die tonight. I am going to kill you. Does that scare you?” Keith shakes his head infinitesimally. Shiro growls low in his throat, thrusting forward harshly until Keith’s eyes roll back in his head. “Tell me the truth, Keith. Your eggs are still inside me. I am keeping them safe for you. The least you owe me is honesty.”

Keith moans and shudders around him, but still answers as commanded. “A little.”

Shiro leans forward, pressing himself even harder against Keith’s back.

“As you should be.” Keith gasps beneath him, and Shiro redoubles his efforts. He sits up, Keith’s eggs shifting inside him, and fucks Keith brutally, the man’s body sliding against the floor with every new snap of Shiro’s hips. Shiro’s power reaches its apex, his claws extending to draw blood magic along his beloved’s skin. “It is time, Keith. This will not feel pleasant.”

Keith merely closes his eyes, throwing his hips back to meet Shiro’s every stroke. He smiles serenely beneath the onslaught. Finally, sparkling violet eyes spring open, staring directly into Shiro’s.

“Give it to me, Takashi.”

Shiro roars into the space between them, loud and domineering. He brings a heavy claw down on Keith’s back, carving the symbol of his power into the smooth, pale skin. Blood wells and pours, Keith cries out in pain, and still, Shiro does not stop. His very core cries out to complete the ritual, to take Keith and everything he has until there is nothing left but Shiro’s claim over him. He finishes drawing his sigil, violet light bursting forth from it the moment the jagged lines are completed. Shiro’s teeth sharpen and drip venom, ready for the taking. He leans forward, wrapping one large hand fully around Keith’s waist.

“Are you ready for your ending, darling?”

“P-please.”

Shiro lunges forward, fucking Keith mercilessly until the tight coil of heat in his gut snaps, unloading his seed into his beloved in thick, hot waves. At the apex of his release, he throws himself forward, lips lining up with the back of Keith’s neck, and bites down hard, his jaw locking into place _._ Keith’s spinal cord snaps between his teeth. He goes limp and still.

Keith is dead.

Shiro pulls out, releasing his bite and gingerly rearranging the limp tentacles of his love’s body. He reverts himself to his smaller form, and sets about cleaning the body. It’s a process that he could complete in seconds if he so chose, but this is important. It’s vital that he take his time and treat Keith’s corpse with the love and reverence it deserves.

Shiro spends hours cleaning him and repairing the damage done.

Keith remains dead.

Once the body is fully clean, Shiro drags them both from the depths of the water. He carries Keith’s body to his favorite perch by the water’s edge—a large, flat rock from which he can view the full body of water they spend his moon cycles in. Shiro lays him out gently, drying Keith’s body with rubbing hands until all that remains damp is his hair.

Keith remains dead.

There’s a sensation in Shiro’s chest, like a string cut loose. It winds around his heart, thrumming with a sort of energy he’s never felt before. It’s hard to discern at first, pulsing weakly within him. It takes him long moments to narrow it down specifically, but when he does, he realizes what it is.

It’s their bond. It is weak currently, still forming, still nebulizing. But it’s there. Shiro breathes a sigh of relief.

Keith remains dead.

The water is still, glassy in the night. Eventually, the sun creeps up slow over the horizon, bursting forth between the leaves of the skyline of trees. The light shines warmly, caressing Shiro’s face and settling brightly over Keith’s skin. His tentacles shimmer in a way they never have, melting away to reveal two muscular legs in their stead.

Slowly, with the rise of the sun, Keith changes.

The thread inside Shiro’s gut tightens.

Keith’s legs lengthen and thicken, tight muscles meant for swift motion wrapping around his bones. His chest broadens out, taking on subtle violet scales that shine in the light. His ears elongate and settle in furry points. His hands widen and curl, small claws tipping each finger.

The thread pulls taut, humming low and constant.

Shiro remains still and vigilant, watching over his mate as he takes on his true form.

His mate.

_His._

Shiro can scarcely believe it.

Keith remains dead.

Long hours pass until the heat of the day hits its stride. Keith’s body finally settles into itself. He’s tall and lean, lithe and strong. Pale violet scales and downy fur coat his body. His ears look soft to the touch, and a single, sharp canine pokes itself out from between his lips.

The fluttering of a weak pulse courses along the thread of their bond.

Keith remains dead.

He’s supposed to, of course, but it still tugs on Shiro’s nerves. He was so full of life hours ago, this man that Shiro has only ever known as a living mortal. He’ll never have a pulse again. That fact strikes Shiro deep. It wasn’t something he had thought about until just now.

The pulse in their bond strengthens. It speeds and rushes and peaks inside of him, a frantic pace, like a jackrabbit running through his veins. Shiro gasps, clutching at his chest. The pulse throbs ever harder until it eventually becomes a steady hum, loud in his ears.

Just as quickly as it began, it stops.

Keith’s eyes snap open.

Shiro holds his breath as Keith sits up, eyes closed.

“I can feel it,” he whispers. The sound of his new voice startles Shiro. It’s deeper, raspier, heavier with the new power infused in his bones. Keith wraps an arm around himself. “I can feel them.”

“What can you feel?” Shiro asks, leaning forward unconsciously, examining Keith’s body.

“The tentacles. They’re still there. They’re just...hidden away. Until I need them again.” Keith opens his eyes. The violet of them is even brighter now, complex and intense under the sun’s light. The sight of them takes Shiro’s breath away. Keith smiles softly and reaches out, settling a warm palm against Shiro’s neck. His hand is bigger now, stronger, but no less delicate. “I can feel you.”

Shiro covers Keith’s hand with his own and smiles.

“And what can you feel?”

Keith pauses, contemplating for a moment before answering. “Relief. Love. Slight discomfort?”

Ah. Shiro shifts slightly in his position.

“Shiro? Why are you uncomfortable? Is it me? Do I look weird?” Keith’s free hand reaches up, sliding along his face toward one of his large ears. He grips it, eyes widening in shock. “Am I a cat? Did you turn me into a fucking _cat?!_ ”

Shiro tries hard not to laugh. He tries so hard. Still, he can’t smother the snort that breaks past his lips. “You are not a cat. You are beautiful, Keith. You’re my dream.”

“Then why-?” Shiro presses a hand to Keith’s chest, shuffling forward to straddle his lap and grind down. The clutch of eggs is still in him. He made a promise, after all. Shiro takes Keith’s hand and guides it behind them, pressing his fingers against his entrance until Keith feels inside. His gasp of realization is quiet between them.

“I told you I would protect them until you returned. Now you are here. And I remain unmated.” Shiro presses his nose to Keith’s. “Stake your claim.”

Keith’s eyes blow out dark and hot, the sclera turning yellow in his lust. Easy as anything, Keith spins Shiro around in his lap, licking a hot stripe up the back of his neck. He’s strong with his new power. It surges overwhelmingly from him in thick waves. They won’t have long to take advantage of it before it settles. His hand wraps around Shiro’s shaft, already at full attention for him. Shiro strains at the touch, biting back a whimper. Keith winds his other hand around him, pressing down on his belly.

The air around them changes, growing heavy with the pressure of a fresh mating bite and Keith’s new nature. The scent of his lust permeates their surroundings, enveloping Shiro in a dizzying cloud. A switch flips, something silent and powerful tipping their balance to Keith’s advantage. He leans ever closer to Shiro, hooking his chin over a shoulder to whisper into Shiro’s ear.

“Can you feel them in there?” he asks dangerously, rubbing a hand possessively along Shiro’s groin.

He can. The eggs shift and press together, rubbing along his insides. The edges of them press smooth along his tract, massaging deep and pleasurable.

“Yes.”

“You kept them safe for me. My children, inside you. All of them warm and comfortable until I could come for them. Do you love them?”

He loves Keith. He loves everything Keith will ever give him. He loves these eggs because they are a part of Keith within him.

“ _Yes._ ”

Keith tightens the hand around Shiro’s throbbing erection and tugs. Shiro hisses loudly at the feeling. His cock leaks into Keith’s hand, slicking himself up easily for the other demon’s touch.

“What will happen to you?”

“What do you mean?” Shiro gasps.

“You can’t die again. You’re technically already dead, right?”

“I never truly lived.”

“Great. So what happens then?” Keith’s hand twists on an upstroke. Shiro’s vision whites out. He can feel Keith bite a smirk into the skin of his neck, and _Gods,_ his new teeth are so sharp. Keith presses a light kiss below Shiro’s ear. “I asked you a question, baby.”

The pet name nearly breaks him. Shiro’s scrambled mind circles around and around, repeating _baby baby baby_ until Keith gets impatient and nips at him one more time.

“Right. Right, yes. Because I claimed you first, you just need to bite me in return. It will not do to me what it did to you, but the effect will be the same. I cannot feel you like you can feel me right now, but your bite will complete the connection. From what I understand, it is...quite intense.”

“Intense, huh?” A freshly forked tongue winds around Shiro’s earlobe and teases at his ear canal. Keith pinches one of Shiro’s nipples hard, setting back to jerking him off. Shiro hisses through his teeth, fighting back the urge to thrust up into the tight ring of Keith’s hand. Keith must know his thoughts, because his hand tightens to a nearly painful degree before he speaks again. “Let’s see how intense.”

Keith rearranges Shiro in his lap, sliding a newly heavy dick in between his ass cheeks and thrusting up. Shiro gasps as the pressure of the rutting forces Keith’s clutch ever higher inside him. Keith hums low, pleased and fond, and redoubles his effort in jerking Shiro off. His hand is hot and slick against Shiro’s dick, twisting on every upstroke. Each pull draws a guttural moan from deep within Shiro’s chest, and he finds himself quickly rushing toward the edge of the precipice. His body tightens and shakes, preparing for the bite he knows is coming soon.

Keith presses a wet kiss to the base of Shiro’s neck. “I bite here, right?”

His hand jerks up Shiro’s shaft harshly.

“Y-yes.”

Another kiss, another jerk. Shiro loves him so much, he loves him so much it hurts, but his patience is running thin. If Keith doesn’t claim him already, he will absolutely lose his mind. Keith laughs quietly against his back.

“Fair enough.”

Ah. So he said that bit out loud, then.

“You did.”

Now, that bit he didn’t.

“Stop that.”

“Yes, dear.”

And there’s something to that. _Dear._ It’s so comforting, so loving, so very human and domestic. Shiro’s chest sings out with it. His love is so large and intense that he drowns in it. He focuses so hard on the feeling that he very nearly misses Keith aligning his teeth with his spinal cord. Keith speeds up the hand working Shiro’s cock, rushing him further and further, ever onward, and just as Shiro feels himself about to snap, Keith quietly says, “I love you.”

Keith’s teeth sink in deep into the column of Shiro’s neck. He comes hard, shouting to the trees around them. Everything goes black.

The darkness is absolute. It surrounds him and blankets him. Even so, it’s familiar, like somewhere he knew in another life. His consciousness rests comfortably here, cradled in something akin to satisfaction. He floats that way for endless minutes, unsure of the precise length of time. Iit doesn’t seem to matter much here. Wherever here is, anyway.

The thread that tied itself to his heart earlier tightens once again, humming with a new energy that Shiro can hardly recognize. It’s bright and beautiful, overwhelming in its volume. Curiously, he examines the feeling with intensity, mentally probing at it. Each nudge finds the sensation poking back at him. The return feeling isn’t one of curiosity, however. It’s one of joy, of love, of slight exasperation.

_You planning on waking up today, or…?_

Well, that’s rude.

_Maybe it is. So is passing out on me like that._

Somewhere off in the distance, a small point of light reveals itself. A warm breeze floats Shiro’s way from the center. He swims closer, pulling himself through the darkness to examine it. As he approaches, it swims and grows, blurring out at the edges as it tears itself wider.

_Don’t make me say it. I swear to all that is holy, if you make me say it, Takashi…_

It didn’t before, but now the voice pings something inside him. A firm voice he knows intimately. A voice he loves more than anything.

_Yeah, yeah, awesome. That’s sweet as hell and everything, but c’mon, already!_

Shiro smiles to himself and swims closer to the voice, to _him._

_That’s right, go into the light, Shiro._

Shiro snorts to himself. The thread vibrates with excitement the closer he gets to the light, singing with anticipation. It catches at his synapses, crackling thunderously in his head. The light is a portal, he realizes as he approaches. It shimmers and shines pleasantly, glittering tendrils extending his way as he reaches out a hand to push through.

Warmth envelops him as his body floats through, the thread tugging him forward insistently until he goes blind from the portal’s brightness.

When Shiro comes to, he finds himself laid out on his back with Keith smiling above him, gentle fingers running lovingly through his hair. The flutter of their joined souls beats softly in his chest. For the first time in his very long life, Shiro feels complete. He feels _full_ of it all, his love and devotion. Keith’s love and devotion.

“Yeah, it’s all very cute and shit,” Keith breaks through his thoughts. “By the way, hearing your thoughts? Weird.”

“I don’t know,” Shiro argues. “It helped me find my way back to you.”

Keith rolls his eyes to hide the blush that settles high on his cheekbones.

“It’s good to have you back,” he says, leaning down for a kiss.

“It’s good to be back.” Shiro presses his lips to Keith’s joyously before drawing away to look seriously up into Keith’s eyes. “Speaking of, do you want these eggs back yet?”

**Author's Note:**

> come on down and see me over on [tumblr](http://tootsonnewts.tumblr.com/) or [twitter](https://twitter.com/_tootsonnewts)!


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